This is a morally uplifting (if one wants one's morals uplifted) story about a tiny Welsh hamlet in the mid 19th century. In fact, it was originally written and published in the Welsh language, as a brief comment opposite the title page states: In these pages the Welsh reader will recognise the popular Welsh novel, 'Arthur Lloyd y Felin', by John Thomas, D.D., of Liverpool, done into English, with some additions, by his daughter-in-law, Mrs. Owen Thomas. I haven't been able to find out anything about the author, although I wonder if it is the same John Thomas M.A., who wrote To the Angel's Chair. A Story of Ideals in a Welsh Village (Hodder and Stoughton, 1897) - see my Blog of 7th July 2020. Both books are drenched in the non-conformist milieu; The subtitle for this novel is 'The first shall be last and the last first' - which I have always felt slightly unfair on those with initiative.
Much of the novel is set in Nant, a remote and sequestered spot, in the bosom of a narrow glen...there were not more than a dozen and a half house in the place...all the houses were small, shabby-looking, and straw thatched, except for the mill, the shop and the smithy, all roofed in slate. Or, rather, that was the outward aspect of Nant many years ago; since then it has entirely changed and greatly increased. Apart from the gossip centres of daily intercourse, the social life revolved around the three non-conformist chapels: the Calvinist Methodists (simply called 'Methodists', for Wesleyan Methodism was then unknown in those parts), whose chapel was called Glyn; the Baptists, with their ancient-looking chapel called Bont (Bridge); and the Congregationalists, or Independents, who were in the majority and worshipped at a chapel called Rhos, due to the land it sat on belonging to Rhos Farm. The parish church was more than three miles away and few besides the clergyman and his sexton gathered there.
The author then regales the reader with rather too many characters to remember and there is a touch of the Scottish kailyard community about them. Little Jones the Tavern, who had opened a day-school in the Baptist Chapel and after a while married the village publican's only daughter, at the same time securing for himself a comfortable home. Morgan Rhys the Shop, a tall, handsome man, calm and taciturn, of considerable ability...his wife wife was a rosy, garrulous little woman, always talking fifteen to the dozen. They had six children, of whom the eldest Martha eclipsed them all. Siencyn the Shoemaker was a man of strong common-sense, keen and observant. He constantly employed two or three workman and two apprentices, with often an itinerant. Harri Parri the Smith was a lively, cheerful little man. There was nothing he enjoyed more than a racy sermon. Shon Rhisiart the Tailor was a hare-brained, quarrelsome busybody. His wife was a long-headed, cunning, smirking woman. Both were trouble-makers, eavesdropping for gossip; one story concerns their disgrace and departure from the village. Isaac Lloyd the Mill highly respected and esteemed; everyone spoke well of him. He was an influential deacon at Rhos Chapel. He had five children - three daughters and two sons; Arthur was the eldest, and he will be one of the most prominent figures in our story. In fact, a major component of the tale is the love story between Martha Rhys and Arthur Lloyd.
Both Martha and Arthur excel in Little Jones' school and both depart to nearby towns to improve their education. The author uses their stories to show up the girl's devotion to her chapel and faith, but Arthur's semi-backsliding when he goes to take up a job in that wicked Great Wen, London. Here, thousands of bright lives have been ruined, through the public-house, the music-hall and the dancing-saloon. One of the evils running through this very bible-based novel is that of drink. To 'take the pledge' meant you were halfway to Heaven. Arthur unfortunately faltered. The other major youthful character in the tale is Dafydd, son of Mari the Widow Bewitched. According to Mrs Rhys, he is a wicked boy not fit to be in a school where there are girls. His father, a ne'er-do-well drunk, had absconded to America and had not been heard of since. His bitter mother let him run riot, using disgraceful language and worse behaviour. However, into the village, from the 'north' comes a Wesleyan Methodist, Robat Eames, who takes up a cobbler's job at Siencyn's. Thanks to his and others' encouragement, Dafydd turns over not just a new leaf but a whole chapter, signs the pledge and becomes an upright member of the chapel. When Martha, whom he secretly but passionately loves, marries Arthur and moves to Essex and, then, his mother dies, he promises the latter that he will try and find his 'lost' father. Caught up in the murder of a gamekeeper (he was totally innocent) he takes ship at Liverpool, engages in several jobs in the USA and finally tracks down his dissolute old man to the west of Chicago. Here they patch things up just before his father dies.
The increasingly overt proselytising in the last third of the story starts to grate with this reader at least. As Arthur Lloyd continues his downward course, thanks to forsaking the chapel and ignoring his devoted and devotional wife (who becomes a Sunday School teacher in Essex) and his two children but consorting with two backsliders who encourage him to frequently consort with them at the local pub; so does Daffyd Thomas make a name for himself in the USA - becoming a partner in an ironmonger's and sticking steadfastly to his pledge. ...in all this Dafyyd 'sinned not'. Indeed, it was then he came upon the kernel of religion; it was then he obtained the promises, the sweetness of consolation, the cherishing warmth of His feathers, the support of the Everlasting Arms. He remembered it was God who had given, and, Godlike, given liberally... he bounces back after the death of his young wife; makes contact with Nant, his home village and even supports Arthur when the latter ends up 'washed-out' with drink in the USA as well. Martha travels over to see her dying husband; increasingly Dafydd and Martha become entwined through their love for their Maker as well as each other. Arthur dies; Dafydd follows Martha over the Atlantic to Nant, convinces the villagers that he is a 'good egg' and he marries Martha and they return to America to live happily ever after. The Last shall be First rather gave the plot away from the very beginning. The final paragraph sums up the author's purpose in writing his homily: Life's experiences had clothed Martha with quiet serenity and dignity. Dafydd thought her a perfect queen, as, with legitimate pride swelling his large heart, he escorted her about among his American friends. She began life afresh with a sense of security in, and reliance upon, the man of her choice. She was now mated to a man who sympathized with her in every particular - whose life and conduct the children might safely imitate; for the very walls of her new home were consecrated by his prayers. There may not have been a barrel of laughs in that family home, but it would be serene.
There is a touch of humour, when the author describes a neighbouring curate, Mr Pugh, making a play for an indifferent Martha - I should rather hear two notes from your lovely throat than a whole anthem from the most musical seraph...do you know what dimples were made for?...to be kissed...may I hope, Miss Rhys, that you will not forget me? To be answered with a crushing retort: I am sorry I can't promise, Mr. Pugh. I have such a wretched memory for faces.
The major moral of the story is beware of the D.D. - not the author's Doctor of Divinity, but the Demon Drink.
I would not have entitled the novel Lloyd of the Mill, but Dafydd of Henblas; not after the anti-hero but the hero.
In my Blog on To the Angel's Chair, I wrote: This is a powerful book, redolent of its time; the author absolutely gives his all to conveying his message. This rings true for Lloyd of the Mill. It is rather ironic, therefore, to read, scrawled in black ink on the front pastedown the following snappy missive: Dear Mr Cole. In returning some of yr. books with many thanks, I send one I hope you will keep as it will perhaps be more interesting to you than to me.
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